France stopped short, not moving, and stared at the white polar bear standing before him. The Quebecois soldiers, had fallen back when the mystical bear had appeared out of the fog, and all of them stood watching France, for their next move. The bear, too was watching France, with a look in its eye France couldn't define. Almost a heartbroken look, as though the bear was lost, as though the bear had lost something important. France sunk to one knee to better look the bear in the eyes. "Kumajiro." He said softly, and something rang in the bear's heart, awakening a memory from long ago.

Something in the word resonated with the bear, and he realized with a chill that it was his own name he was hearing. France saw the look of recognition glitter across the bears eyes, and spoke slowy. "Where is he?" The bear's eyes widened, and he backed up, bristling slightly. Something told him that this man was powerful, and it scare the bear. He knew deep inside, that this man had the power to save the boy, or destroy him. What the bear didn't know was if he could trust him.

France recognized the hesitation, and understood. He raised a hand, and placed it lightly on the bear's nose. The soldiers nearby gasped, and some stiffened, grips tightening on their guns, just in case. Almost too fast, Kumajiro opened his mouth and brought his crushing Jaws together on Frances hand, stopping just short of biting it off. France didn't flinch, raising his other hand to stop the other soldiers from shooting, as several had readied their guns. "He is dying, Kumajiro." France spoke slowly. "If we don't find him, we cannot 'elp him."

Slowly, the bear opened its mouth and released France's hand, never breaking eye contact. To France, the message was clear. "Hurt him, and I will destroy you." He nodded to the bear, and it turned lumbering back in the direction it came, moving swiftly, and checking several times to make sure France was still following. One of the soldiers offered France some gauze to wrap his hand, but France waved him off with his injured hand. "It is ok. It is already healing.' And true enough, the wounds were already closing up, the bloodflow lessening.

The soldier stumbled back, giving France a look, though whether it was filled with fear or awe, France couldn't tell. The soldiers exchanged a exchanged looks, then followed France silenty. When they finally stopped, they were in a clear area, with a few bare bushes and leafless trees, and nothing but heaps of dead leaves covering the ground. The bear stopped seemingly satisfied, and rubbed its back on a nearby tree, more to ease its nerves than anything. For the first time the soldiers spoke.

" there's nothing here." One said boldly, speaking directly to the bear. The bear simply stared hard at her in response. "Non." France breathed, distantly. "He is here. Can't you feel it?" The sodleirs stiffened as an unnatural breeze seemed to curl around them and blow through the area, before dispersing, leavingrg only a faint maple scent behind. France felt his eyes drawn to the pile of leaves in the centre, and he approached it slowly, reverently. He brushed the leaves away, breathlessly, and caught his breath deeply when the leaves fell away, revealing a small little boy with a single unruly curl, barely the size of an average five year old. "Sacré bleu." He murmured to himself.

His fingers trembles, and he hovered his hand only inches above the tiny boy's face. He was so close, he could touch him-but France stopped himself, pulling his hand back, and standing up and stepping back. He nodded to the squad leader. "I leave him in your 'ands." He said, swallowing past the lump in his throat. "He is your country, and you are his people." France knew that it was safest for Canada to be supported by his people and draw strength from them, rather than another country. The squadron leader looked amazed, but reverently knelt and scooped up the young child, before nodding to the rest of the squad, signalling them to go back. The bear fell in line behind.

It wasn't until France stepped into his personal tent, and saw England and America waiting for him there, that he finally let the tears escape, and gave them a watery smile, whispering "We found him. We found Canada."